


Demons

by azgedarules



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 (TV) RPF, The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - The 100 (TV) Fusion, Bellarke, Bellarke AU Week, Bellarke Fic Week, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, F/M, Minor Bellamy Blake/Echo, Minor Octavia Blake/Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin are Best Friends, Octavia Blake Ships It, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, The 100 Ficathon, bellamyblake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azgedarules/pseuds/azgedarules
Summary: He's a heartbroken murderer who kills to help him feel alive. She's a lonely writer with a damaged childhood who doesn't exactly like herself or anyone else. When their paths cross, will it be for better or for worse? Will they conquer their demons, or will the past and the future be too much?(Bellarke fic)
Relationships: Bellarke - Relationship
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

News forecast flashes, shows images of  
a man in his mid 40's. the words "MURDERED" show across the bottom of the screen.

A man, dressed in black skinny jeans and a white t shirt, sighs and gets off the couch. He grabs a pack of cigarettes and walks towards the balcony in the hotel room he is staying at. He takes one out and lights it casually, as he stares out into the city of New York.

***

A new scene, down in a lower part of New York, is a girl with blue eyes. Her features are smooth, she has a sturdy round face with blonde hair pulled back into a low bun. As she walks down the street, hands in her pockets of her expensive looking black leather jacket, her eyes trace up and down every single person she walks by, not missing a single soul. She is observant. She is emotionless. No one notices her as she walks through the crowds, she is lonely, but no one knows. 

-"Demons" by Imagine Dragons starts-  
*A slideshow starts playing, showing photos of a boy with soft brown eyes growing up in a small house. Lots of kids are crowded around him and he has a giant smile on his face, the photo disappears and another one takes its place, with a teenage boy who is smiling with a girl, who has brown hair and bright, green eyes. The girl has her hand wrapped tightly around the brown eyed boys waist. They both look very happy.

*The picture fades away and a new one appears, showing a bright young girl sitting on a stool in an orphanage, her smile is wide and she is clutching a stuffed bear. The photo fades and a new one appears, a young girl sitting down in an empty window in the same orphanage, and looking out. Her big eyes reflect the sunlight and turns them a beautiful bright blue. She looks sad, lost, and desperate.

The picture fades and disappears and the word "Demons" appears in large black letters.

The song stops, the word fades and the screen goes black... *

\---


	2. 2.0 Bellamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking back inside, he sighed heavily. When did he become so depressing? Bellamy thought. His life was supposed to be exciting and filled with adventure. But still deep down something wasn't right.

Bellamy

7:43pm

Taking a deep breath of the cigarette, Bellamy took in the view of the balcony in his hotel room, which looked out onto the city of London. He stared down below him, his (maybe too long) dark brown curls blowing in the wind. Bellamy thought the view was quite beautiful. He looked down at all the people, hustling around, busy with their everyday lives. They looked like ants to Bellamy, so tiny from where he stands.

Taking the cigarette between his fingers, he took another puff, and finishing it off, he disposes of it in the cigar dish to his left.Walking back inside, he sighed heavily. When did he become so depressing? Bellamy thought. His life was supposed to be exciting and filled with adventure. But still deep down something wasn't right. Well, it hadn't been for a very long time and it never would be, ever since.. Bellamy shook his head, running a hand through his hair then shaking it to get his curls back from his eyes. He couldn't think of the past. that was done and over. Now is the future. It will get better.

He felt somewhere deep down that something was going to change, he just had to wait for it.

And Bellamy silently promised himself that he will get better.For himself.

1:57am

He didn't sleep that night. He was ready to do what he had to do. He has to do it, you know? It had to be done. This thing, this "lifestyle" he has, it made him feel better... It helped him. He then pulled on some black gloves, to hide fingerprints of course. Then rummaging through the small kitchen drawers, he searched for his weapon. Grabbing a sharp knife that was about 7 inches, he smirked into the metal reflection of himself and quickly slipped it up his sleeve. There was a hint of regret shining in his brown eyes, but he remembered, this is who he is now.

He grabbed his room key and silently opened the hotel door, leaving the room and walking down the dim lit hallway. As Bellamy walked down the hallway, he wondered to himself if he would always be so alone. I mean, he loved the simplicity of traveling on his own. It was simple and easy. But sometimes he wished he had someone to live his life with, maybe then he could be happy. But then again, happiness didn't suit him. So instead he just shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on the sound his faded black vans were making on the carpet.

Walking silently towards the exit of the hotel, he walked past the desk clerk who stared at him in confusion. He was a man in his late 30's who probably made minimum wage and lived in a shitty apartment by himself. He was probably wondering right now why Bellamy was going out so late. 

You see, Bellamy was very good at reading people. He could read the raw emotion on their faces, it was just one of his many skills. Giving the man a curt nod and shoving his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket, he stepped out into the night. It was warm, Bellamy thought. Why was he wearing jeans and a jacket? It was probably 20 degrees out here. He grumbled to himself as he walked down the back streets of London. Even at night it was pretty crowded, creepy people at every corner, giving you those blank stares with droopy eyelids and wrinkled hands holding out empty coffee cups.

Now for the fun part. Bellamy looked around, his eyes tracing up and down the people who walked around him. His senses awoke when he spotted a grimy man dressed in gross looking jeans and an old- looking brown leather jacket who looked to be in his mid 50's, pestering a girl with short blonde hair. She was dressed in a very skanky outfit. but Bellamy wasn't one to judge. He simply watched the scene unfold from where he was standing, hidden in the shadows of an ally.

"What's a pretty lady like you doin all by yerself out here eh?" The man asked the lady, smacking her arse in the process.

She yelped and whipped around, glaring at him.

"you keep your filthy hands off me you animal!" She smacked his hand away, but he just chuckled and continued to walk beside the woman.

Bellamy sighed and shook his head. He would be the target for tonight, Bellamy thought, rude and probably deserved it. Bellamy turned out from where he was in the shadows and started shuffling slowly towards the pair walking towards him. When he reached the man, he walked by him and grabbed him by his forearm, dragging him away from the woman.

"yo man wassup? getcho hands off me!" The man slurred, he was obviously drunk, doing very little to rid himself of Bellamy' hand, which was now clamped tightly around his arm.

"I don't think so." Bellamy muttered, mainly to himself. He continued to drag the man and ignored his protests and took him into another dark alley. Bellamy checked the time.

2:21am

He smiled to himself and chuckled before skillfully slipping the knife out from his coat sleeve. It slid right into his open hand and he wrapped his eager fingers around it. Grabbing the knife, he then shoved the man against the wall, earning an "oof" from him.

"Hey man like chill out!!" the man yelled, trying to free himself from Bellamy's grip and failing miserably. But Bellamy refuses to engage in conversation with his victims. He simply dragged the tip of the knife on the man's prickly face, the man's eyes widening in the process.

"what the-"

But before he could finish his sentence, Bellamy had plunged the knife deep into his chest. The man groaned and his hands flailed around, desperately trying to help himself. Bellamy only took this chance to retrieve his knife and plunge it once again into his chest. This time, the man gurgled and slumped down, his eyes slowly drooping closed. Bellamy slid the knife out from his chest, and wiped the knife on his jacket twice, cleaning it of all the blood. The man had already slumped against the alley wall, his eyes closed and blood drenching his grungy t-shirt. Bellamy looked at his victim and smiled sadly, he was proud. He had made a clean kill and it had made him feel better. But only for a couple days, then he would have to kill again to fill the emptiness inside of him. He didn't know why this made him feel better, it just did.

Bellamy slid the knife once again into his sleeve and pulled up the collar on his jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets. He left the body, like he always does. He quickly walked into a mcdonalds to grab some food before he could return to the hotel. He was hungry and the food would make people less curious about what he went out to do at one in the morning. Hopefully no one would find the body soon, Bellamy thought as he trudged back to the hotel with a burger in hand. He licked his lips once again and continued on his way down the now empty streets of New York. When he finally reached his hotel, he walked in, eyeing the front desk. There was the same man as before and he looked up when Bellamy walked in. Bellamy gave the man the nicest smile he could manage, and not looking at him for a reply he walked towards the elevator. Pressing the third floor button he impatiently waited and listened to the quiet sounds of a song playing.

When he reached his floor, he gingerly exited the elevator and shuffled his way down the hallway towards his room. Sliding the key in the slot, he entered his room and let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Running a hand through his now messy curls, he walked into the bathroom and stripped down to his boxers, carefully placing everything he wore into the bathtub. He grabbed a lighter and quietly burned every item of clothing one at a time, to reduce the amount of smoke. When the clothes were burned to ashes, (which took quite a while) he ran the bathtub water and washed everything down. He then disposed of the lighter by breaking it apart and littering the remains down the drain of the bathtub where he knew no one would find it. He slipped the gloves off and put them in a plastic bag, he would clean it later. Returning to the bedroom, he grabbed some pj pants and hopped into the comfy hotel bed.

Grabbing his phone, he set an alarm for 6:00am, so that he could leave before anything happened or hopefully before anyone found the body. It was tiring work, yes. But Bellamy enjoyed it. He enjoyed the thrill and it helped please him and distract himself from how constantly sad he was. Bellamy drifted off into sleep, tossing and turning all night.

He saw green eyes all night, they haunted him. He couldn't get the memory of her out of his mind.


	3. 3.0 Clarke

Clarke

7:43pm

Her footsteps echoed through the hallway. She walked slow and calmly as she made her way to her apartment door. It was a hot day in New York, Clarke thought as she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.

Taking her keys from her pocket she quietly unlocked her door. The only sound coming from the small 400 square feet apartment was the air conditioning running. Clarke closed the door behind her and stood there in the front hall. She sighed. It was quiet, too quiet.

However, that's the way it always was for her. She went to work, walked home, and spent the rest of her night reading, working, or watching television, alone. She had been alone for most of her life. After 14 long years in New York's crappiest orphanage, she had managed to impress a writing firm with her abilities and became a writer for the local paper. Moving out of the orphanage when she turned 18 was scary, especially not having anywhere to go or anyone to go to. But she made a life and she was proud. She was used to it. She had always been alone.

Clarke hung her bag on the hooks beside her door and shook her light jacket off. Walking through the apartment, she put the kettle on and took out a tea bag. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes, she walked over to the balcony and swiftly lit one.

Inhale, Exhale. Her body started to relax as the first inhale hit her lungs. It was a horrible habit but she couldn't shake it and frankly it was the only thing that kept her sane in this shitty city. After finishing the cigarette she put it out in an ash tray and walked back inside to have tea and do some work.

Pulling her hair into a pony tail, she rubbed the bridge of her nose and grabbed her laptop from her bag. After opening it, Clarke grabbed the tv remote and switched channels till she got to the news.

Clarke had been working on an article for almost an hour when the news cast started showing todays stories from downtown New York.

There had been a murder. Just a couple towns over. Clarke grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

The tv shows an ally that is sectioned off with crime scene tape and police officers all over the place. There is a black tarp placed over what can only be a body just behind the yellow tape.

A news anchor starts talking : Mark Jefferies was found stabbed to death in an ally just off Carmen street. He was found early this morning by two pedestrians on a walk. The police currently have no leads but are continuing the investigation and will be updating the public should they find any suspects.

Clarke inhaled sharply. She wasn't exactly scared, being scared wasn't something that happened to her often. She felt a rush go through her as goosebumps appeared on her arms.

It was a strange thing, death. How someone's life could be taken so suddenly from them.

However, Clarke thought, it was nothing she should think too much about. She muted the tv and continued working on the article that would needed to be handed in that following morning.

~

1:07am

She awoke with a start, the heat from her laptop awakening her from her sleep.

"Shit." she muttered. Groaning and stretching her arms above her head, she looked at the time. It was already 1am? When had she fallen asleep?

Clarke groggily pushed her laptop to the side, quickly checking if she had finished the article which, luckily, she had. Shutting the tv off and putting her finished cup of tea in the sink, she headed off to her bedroom to head to bed.

Practically falling into her comfy bed, she wrapped the blankets around her and felt herself sinking into a deep sleep.

~

7:00am

The sound of Clarke's alarm woke her up from a dream that she knew was good but she couldn't quite remember. Looking over at the clock, she rubbed her eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me." She groaned as she realized she forgot to take off her makeup and it was smudged all over her hands.

Hopping out of bed, she walked towards the bathroom and turned the shower nob on. She stripped her clothes off and sleepily stepped into the shower. The warm water felt amazing on her skin especially washing away yesterdays makeup, and started to wake her up.

She lathered soap into her hair and washed it, massaging her head and enjoying the couple minutes of relaxation she had in the shower.

After washing her hair and body, Clarke turned the shower off and stepped out, grabbing the white fluffy towel on the hook and wrapping herself in it. She sat and opened some drawers and got out the makeup she was going to put on. Foundation, mascara and bronzer was all she needed for her basic everyday makeup look.

Clarke was pretty. Long blonde hair that was naturally pretty curly framed her face and deep blue eyes, she had the look that most girls would kill for. However, she never saw this. Looking at herself in the mirror she smiled, but it didn't look real. She couldn't look at her reflection and see something pretty. Clarke just couldn't seem to like herself despite how much she tried.

Sighing, Clarke started to blow dry her hair and it didn't take long for it to be completely dry. It dried nice curls (for once) so she didn't need to do anything else to it. Getting up, she walked towards her closet to pick out an outfit for the day. She went with a white blouse that tied at the front with some black dress pants. She picked up a couple bracelets as well as a bunch of rings and put those on as well. Quickly grabbing her favourite perfume, a soft vanilla scent, she headed out of her room.

Grabbing her sunglasses, she picked up her laptop from the couch as well as her phone and put them both in her bag walking towards the front door. Her television was still on, muted, as she never turned it off.

Walking right by it, she missed the news anchor explaining how there had been another murder, just down the street from her.

Not seeing the television, Clarke slipped on some loafers, praying that today would go well and that she wouldn't feel so down, as she so often did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little chapter, just an intro to Clarke.
> 
> kudos for more chapters!:)


End file.
